“No, no.” She quickly dug two more holes. “I was just confused. I thought Claire and I…well—great. That’ll be great.”

“I think so too.”

In awkward silence, she planted the final two dahlias. A cloud of gnats swarmed her face. She swatted them and stood. Squinting from beneath her hat, she took him in. He was dressed like he just walked out of a menswear catalog. Again. She, on the other hand, wore a faded tank top and threadbare cutoffs, and her knees and shins were smudged with dirt. She tugged the frayed hem of her shorts.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” Embarrassment skittered up her neck on prickly feet—no doubt leaving a trail of tiny, red footprints.

“Seeing anybody? Dating anyone?”

He leveled his gaze like he just asked a clinical question. Do you have a fever? Where does it hurt? Are you snogging another dude? Laughter bubbled out before she could squelch it.

He shifted his weight and jingled the keys in his pocket. “Is something funny?”

Planted at the edge of her garden in previously spotless running shoes, Richard revealed a hairline fracture in his confidence. Dr. Suave was human, after all. She held out a hand. “Goodness, no. It’s just—”

“What?” He smiled.

The crack was sealed. She swept a hand down the front of her cutoffs, raining dirt onto her gardening boots. “No. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Well, as Sam made abundantly clear yesterday, I am also single.”

So, Richard had excellent hearing and the ability to monitor two conversations at once. Noted. She pressed her lips into a smile. “He mentioned something to that effect.”

“Clarity. Good.” With a tilt of the head, he beckoned. “Hey, enough with the flowers. Plant them later. Why don’t you show me around this gorgeous property?”

“You want a garden tour?”

“Indeed.”

She chucked her trowel and tossed her cap over a fence post. Dirty knees and all, she instantly became his classic movie co-star. “I’d love to.”

Placing a hand on the small of her back, he accompanied her into the sunlit yard.

Like a proud parent, she showed off her perennial beds and then pointed to a flat, grassy area. “…and that’s where I developed my unstoppable badminton skills. So nerdy with a capital ‘N.’ ”

He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll have to challenge you to a match.”

“Challenge accepted. I’m pretty good. Just sayin’.” Leaving behind the more manicured gardens, she escorted him into the wilder play spaces of her childhood. “My tire swing hung from that big oak until a huge storm a few years ago.” She scooped up an acorn cap and gestured toward the tree. “This massive limb just snapped off in the wind. My mom sent me pictures. Insane.”

He didn’t respond.

She glanced over and dropped her arm.

Shoulders hunched, he stood typing on his phone.